


Sweet As Honey

by OnlyOneKingLoki



Series: Ride A Cowboy [1]
Category: Kingsman (Movies)
Genre: Agent Whiskey is too sexy in that Stetson and we all know it, Angst, F/M, I'm Bad At Tagging, Mutual Pining, Reader-Insert, Slow Burn, Some sort of AU, That's right, but no use of y/n, like so slow, not sure what kind but whatever
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-28
Updated: 2021-03-03
Packaged: 2021-03-12 02:48:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,546
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29752926
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OnlyOneKingLoki/pseuds/OnlyOneKingLoki
Summary: Agent Whiskey and the reader have been partners at Statesman for the majority of a year. When assigned a honey trap mission, who knows what admissions might come out?
Relationships: Jack | Whiskey (Kingsman)/Reader
Series: Ride A Cowboy [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2186733
Comments: 9
Kudos: 30





	1. Chapter 1

“Y’know, I don’t believe ya told me where you’re from,” Agent Whiskey said as we lounged in the resort room we were staying in for this mission. I brought over a mug of coffee for myself and for him, and he looked up at me from his seat on the sofa surprised. “Why thank ya, darlin’. That’s mighty kind of ya.”

“You’re welcome. Figured we could both use some warming up before we go out in the cold,” I said sitting beside him on the couch. “As for where I’m from, why do you ask?”

“Well, I figure it’s only fair since you already know I’m from Kentucky,” he said taking long a sip of his coffee. I sipped mine as well, wondering if I should tell him.

“Hm. How about this, cowboy: if you guess it right, I’ll tell you. Until then, mum’s the word,” I said miming turning a key in a lock over my lips. He let out his usual cheerful laugh, and I saw a sparkle in his eyes at the prospect of a challenge. Damn, the man had no right to be that handsome. Jack turned so that he was facing me, and he gave me a long, contemplative look while he sipped his coffee.

“Well, I reckon I’ll have this all done and dusted in two shakes of a lamb’s tail, Julep,” he said with a wide smile. Whiskey and I had been working together for nearly ten months now, and the two of us had gotten pretty comfortable with each other. Banter was easy between us, and I had to admit I had developed a bit of a crush on my field partner. His easy smiles never failed to make my stomach flip and my heart thud faster in my chest, even if the man was a shameless flirt with pretty much anything that breathed. To calm myself and to hide the licking of my lips at the intensity of his gaze, I sipped my coffee. I was hoping he’d disregard the heat rising to my cheeks, but at the small smirk that crossed his lips I knew I would have no such luck. “And if that ain’t the prettiest little ole blush I ever did see!”

“Oh hush, Whiskey,” I said purposefully not meeting his gaze with my own. “You gonna guess or are you admitting defeat without even trying? If it’s the latter, then I must admit I expected more from a Kentucky boy.”

“Ya been with a lotta Kentucky boys, sugar?” He asked with a wink that nearly made my brain short circuit.

“So, you forfeit?” I snarked in return, trying desperately to keep my own reactions regulated.

“Never. You ought to know Kentucky boys got lotsa patience and endurance,” he said winking again, before setting his empty mug on the side table. “Right. Now the way I see it there’s only a few options. Based on your own call sign – Mint Julep – there’s a pretty narrow field.”

“Alright, your first guess and why, please,” I requested setting my own empty mug aside as well. I turned back to Jack who was giving me an analytical stare – one that he normally saved for mission research. He nodded his head, tilting his Stetson back a bit.

“Well, it has to be Southern in my humble opinion. A bit of your accent still comes out every now and again, even if ya’ve all but trained yourself not to speak like that anymore,” he said, making me raise my eyebrows. So he’d been able to tell that? He was more observant than he let on. “So…first guess…Missouri.”

“And your reasoning?” I asked matching his posture.

“Well, Missouri is filled with a buncha elegant beauties who are absolutely brimming with confidence. I ain’t ever seen ya looking anything less than regally elegant, and most of the time, you’re one of the most confident agents we have,” he said looking pretty confident himself. “Am I right?”

“Nope,” I said with a smile, and a small crease appeared between his eyebrows. “What? Is the great Agent Whiskey shocked that he wasn’t right the first time?”

“Aw hush, darlin’. I’m only just gettin’ started,” he said readjusting his posture and leaning toward me a bit more. His eyes scanned my figure slowly and I leaned back a bit. He made a small sound of protest and put his arm around my waist. “Easy now, ain’t no reason to run away from me. Ya should know by now that I don’t bite unless asked to.”

Jack gave me a gentle smile, speaking quiet and slow. His Southern drawl and slow speech made the words drip from his lips like honey.

I wanted to lean in and lick them right out of his mouth.

But I didn’t. Instead, I raised an eyebrow and my lips quirked up in a small smile.

“Quit stalling, hotshot. Give me your second guess and your reasoning,” I said snatching his hat from his head and placing it on my own. He looked positively scandalized, and I couldn’t stop the triumphant smirk that trickled across my lips. “Something wrong?”

“You don’t fight fair,” he said quietly as a mischievous smile appeared on his face. I gave a small yelp as he yanked me up and onto his lap. I quickly braced myself on his shoulders and tried desperately not to think of the position we were in. Whiskey’s voice was deep and smooth when he spoke, and I felt my breath hitch. “You wanna give a man his hat back?”

“You’ll get it back when you guess correctly,” I said in as steady a voice as I could manage. “So, start guessing, cowboy.”

He gave a small laugh that I could feel vibrating through his chest. Heat rocketed between my legs when I realized I could feel the warmth of his breath caressing my face. If I leaned in just a little…tilted my head just so…

But no. I couldn’t. He was my partner – my work partner. A colleague, nothing more. I was roused from my thoughts by Whiskey’s infernally perfect voice.

“Sugar? Where’d ya go off to just now?” He asked curiously, and I realized his hands were rubbing gentle patterns under the edge of my shirt. _When the fuck did they get there?!_ I bit back a moan at the sensation, swallowing it before it could be vocalized. “You looked like you were a million miles away. I…I’m sorry if this ole cowboy’s been pesterin’ ya to death. I didn’t mean to get too personal.”

I was taken aback.

“Whiskey, we’ve been partners for the better part of a year. If there had ever been a time when you were capable of pestering me to death, it would have come in the first few weeks we worked together. You’re not bothering me, I promise,” I said honestly, but I could tell from his expression he wasn’t convinced. “I’m just a bit preoccupied by this mission, that’s all.”

“That wasn’t your ‘thinking about the mission’ face. That was different. It was like you were…I don’t know, frustrated by something? Or maybe confused?” He said trying to work it out himself. Fuck. I knew he could read me, but I didn’t know he could do it that well. I tried to keep my face as neutral as possible as I slipped the Stetson back on his head and eased out of his lap. “D-Darlin’?”

I picked up the empty mugs and carried them to the sink, before starting toward my bedroom.

“I better start getting ready. We’ll have to head out soon,” I said not sparing a glance back at him, even when he called my name quietly. If I had looked back, I was sure he’d be able to see how much I loved him painted on my face like a fucking neon ‘Eat at Joes’ sign. He was my field partner, nothing more. Or so I kept telling myself.

\--

An hour later, I walked out of the bedroom into the living area and blinked at the sight before me. Jack was in an honest to God suit. Well, a button-down, a tie, and a suit jacket paired with dark jeans – but that was the most black-tie his wardrobe got. He wasn’t even wearing his Stetson. He hadn’t spotted me yet. He was occupied with a last check on his pistol, so I took a moment to study him. Damn, the man was gorgeous. The way his dark hair contrasted with his tan skin. The way his eyebrows furrowed when he concentrated.

Ah, fuck, I had it bad. I was drawn out of my reverie by a low whistle. Fuck, I’d been caught staring, but it didn’t seem like Whiskey cared about that. His eyes were too busy roaming the length of my body, from my freshly done hair to the shoes that matched my cobalt blue dress.

“Hot damn, sugar,” he said in a low, slightly husky voice as he made his way over to me. “That’s…I mean, ya look…wow.”

I felt my cheeks heat up, and he bit his lower lip as his eyes made it back up to my face.

“There is absolutely no question about it: You are goin’ to be the most beautiful woman at that dance tonight, hands down. If any man isn’t focussin’ on you, why, they must be blind,” he said raising my hand to his lips. “Our target doesn’t even deserve to lick the dirt off those pretty shoes of yours, let alone get all flirty with ya.”

I stood there blushing and trying to think of something witty to say in return, but all I could manage was a question.

“No Stetson tonight?” He gave a slightly nervous smile to that.

“I…well, I thought we’d be less conspicuous if I didn’t wear it. Why? D-Do you think I look weird without it?” He asked, and one of his hands was already reaching up to smooth his hair a bit more. I reached up and took his hand away before I could think better of it, bringing it down in front of him and holding it in mine.

“Stop fussing, Whiskey. You know there’s no possible way for you to look anything less than devilishly handsome,” I said, wishing I had bit my tongue off before my brain allowed me to admit that. My regret was cut short when he gave a wide, genuine smile. Fuck, I’d do anything to see him smile like that more. That smile made my heart flutter and my knees go weak.

“Well, thank ya, sugar! Ya sure have made this ole Southern boy’s evenin’,” he said bringing our still joined hands up and kissing my knuckles again. I blushed and resisted the temptation to yank him down by his tie and kiss him senseless.

“Got everything you need?” I asked, and he nodded his head. “Great. I’ve got the ring that has the tracker in it. I’ll get him to dance with me or something else involving physical contact, and I’ll get him with it. Then it’ll be up to Ginger. You already do your comm check?”

“Yes ma’am. Do yours right quick and we’ll be on our way,” he said, and I did just that. I went to put on my coat, but Jack took it from my hands and held it up for me. He was being such a gentleman tonight. I let him help me, and soon we were out the door.


	2. Chapter 2

Twenty minutes into the party, I had a drink in my hand, and I laid eyes on our target. He was laughing loudly at something one of his lackeys said – a little too loudly to be completely sober.

Perfect. This would be easier than I thought. He started walking away from the person he was talking to, and he wasn’t exactly paying attention to where he was going. I quickly made my way in that direction, acting as if I didn’t notice him as I walked toward the bar for a refill. Our shoulders collided, knocking my glass from my hand.

“Oh no! I’m so sorry, sir,” I said I made a show of looking up at him innocently. His eyes raked shamelessly over me, lingering much longer than was socially acceptable on the dip of my dress’s neckline.

“Well, maybe I can find a way for you to make it up to me, eh, cupcake?” He winked and dared to put his arm around my waist, drawing me close. Internally, I was disgusted being this close to such a scumbag of a person, but outwardly I gave a coquettish smile and let my palms rest on the lapels of his suit jacket. “Why don’t you and I go somewhere a bit more private, and you can go about apologizing the way a good girl should.”

“That sounds divine,” I said leaning in a bit and letting my eyes linger on his lips. He gave a dangerous, dirty smile as he pulled me roughly in the direction of a hallway at the back.

“Be careful, sugar,” I heard Whiskey say through my comm. I tapped my ear once as I pretended to adjust my hair – a signal we’d come up with a couple of weeks into our partnership that meant I’d heard him. I was pulled into a dark room, and the mark flipped a light switch revealing it was some sort of office. I heard a lock click into place and then his arms were around my waist and his disgusting, slimy lips were slobbering all over my neck. Internally, I grimaced, but I had to make this believable. I faked a moan, turning in his arms reaching my hands up to tangle in his hair. I let one go higher and left the other – the one with the ring – near the nape of his neck. His lips were still on my neck when I allowed my fingers to slide down a bit. I triggered the ring’s injection mechanism, and the tracker went into his neck. I acted as if I was removing my fingers from a small tangle in his hair so he wouldn’t be suspicious, and the stupid fucker didn’t think anything of it.

His hands were already rucking my dress up as his lips reached my shoulder, and I used the opportunity to fake another moan and bury my face in his shoulder. I used his distraction to tap my comm three times to signal Whiskey I had done what I needed to do.

“Gotcha, sugar. Gonna get ya out of there,” Jack said, and I heard the doorknob jiggling.

Oh fuck.

I forgot he locked the fucking door.

“Get the two of ya away from the door, Julep,” he said, and I pulled the mark toward the desk, making a show of sitting on it with my legs spread. He took the bait, stepping between my legs –

Right as the door was smashed open with a loud, ear-splitting, splintering crack. The doorknob slammed against the wall, and I faked surprise yanking my dress back down with a faux mortified expression on my face.

“The hell ya doin’ with my date, slick?” Jack asked looking angry beyond belief. I’d never seen him looking quite as serious and imposing.

Everything about his demeanor, his posture, his expression made me wish it was him standing between my legs instead of this sleazy dickbag.

“Clearly something you’re not willing to do for her, isn’t that right, little slut?” the mark said grasping me by the hair and trying to yank me into a kiss. I resisted him, tearing my shoe off and whacking him on the side of the head with it. He let out a yelp and stumbled back just far enough that I could get away and over to Jack, who promptly grabbed my arm and started pulling me quickly down corridors – presumably toward a back exit. Soon we were out in the frigid air again, but instead of being his normal, chatty self, Jack was oddly silent.

“Hey, can I at least put my shoe on?” My voice shook him out of whatever thoughts he was lost in, and he let go of my arm, stopping so I could do so. I noticed the stormy expression on his face, and when I had my shoe on again, I turned to him. “Whiskey…hey, talk to me.”

His jaw clenched and instead of answering me, he just turned and resumed his previous path beck toward our car for the night. He wanted to get us back to our hotel room, I knew, but what the hell had I done to make him so angry?

“What, you’re not talking to me now?” I asked as I got in on my side of the car and he started driving. Still no reply from him, and I sighed. “Great. First, I have to voluntarily let a creep hit on me then my partner decides he wants nothing to do with me. What the fuck? Who pissed on your parade? You were so happy earlier.”

The only answer I got was his foot leaning more heavily on the accelerator. Fine. If that was the way he wanted to play it, then this road could go both ways.

When we arrived back, I bolted from the car and went straight to my room to take a shower. I wanted to make myself feel less disgusting after that fucker had his lips all over me. I took off my makeup and clothes and stepped into the shower, allowing the water to flow over me. I grabbed the soap and a washcloth and started scrubbing every inch of myself, going over the areas the mark had touched until they were almost raw. I wanted no memory of him left on my skin. I slowly calmed down as the warm water washed away the lingering tension in my muscles.

I allowed my thoughts to drift unwisely back to my partner. He’d looked fucking furious when he bashed the door in, but…there had been something else in his expression. Something I couldn’t quite identify.

Oh, I very much knew what I _wanted_ it to be. In my ideal fantasies, it would have been hunger at the state of my dress and my position on the desk. If I had my way, Whiskey would’ve dealt with the mark, bent me over the desk, and fucked me till I lost my voice.

But that was never going to happen. That realization made something unpleasant twist in my stomach, so I tried to lose myself in the fantasy of Jack in that fucking suit pulling his cock out and fucking me. My fingers drifted down and started rubbing my clit, and I leaned back against the wall of the shower as I imagined him saying absolutely filthy things to me in that stupid honey-smooth voice of his.

I let out a moan as I imagined the broken little sounds he’d make as he took his pleasure from me. I imagined his ragged breaths as he released, and I bit the heel of my palm as I reached my peak embarrassingly quickly. All I could think of as I shattered was Jack.

When I finally stopped trembling, I got out of the shower, turning off the water and toweling myself dry. I threw on some sweatpants and a baggy t-shirt and dried my hair. Getting ready for bed, I started walking to the kitchen to grab a glass of water. As I was getting a glass from one of the cupboards, I heard a throat being cleared. I clenched my jaw and looked over to see Whiskey looking sheepish as he stood in the doorway of his bedroom. I put the glass back in the cabinet and started to go back to my room, assuming he wanted me out of the way. I had almost reached my door when a hand caught mine and stopped my forward momentum.

“Whiskey – “ I started, but he cut me off.

“I’m sorry, sugar. I shouldn’t’a been so damn rude. I let my temper get the better of me. When…When he called you a…Well, it made my blood boil. I wasn’t mad at you, I promise. I should’ve handled it better. I behaved badly, I know that, and I’m so sorry,” he said taking my other hand in his as well, turning me softly to face him. I let my eyes wander up to his and the regret and sincerity I found made my heart melt. “Can ya find it in your heart to give an undeserving, old hick a second chance?”

I acted like I was thinking about it for just long enough to make him wonder, then I gave a small smile.

“Just this once,” I said, and no sooner were the words out of my mouth than I was being swept up into one of his bear hugs. He lifted me off the ground, his strong arms holding me close, and my own went around his torso. I let myself nuzzle into him for a moment. Fuck, his cologne was…and I could tell he’d showered too. His thin cotton undershirt was doing nothing to mask the warmth of his skin. As Jack set me carefully on my feet again, his hands slid down and rested on my waist and he smiled at me. That mischievous sparkle from earlier was back in his eyes as he spoke.

“Y’know, I think I figured out the answer from earlier,” he said in a quiet voice, and I raised an eyebrow questioningly. “I know without a shadow of a doubt where you’re from, now.”

“Oh? How you figure that, cowboy?” I asked tracing my finger across the collar of his undershirt. I watched way too long as his Adam’s apple bobbed while he swallowed.

“Well see, it’s like this,” he said licking his lips. “You’ve gotta be from Georgia.”

_Well, damn._ He’d gotten it. But…But how…?

“And your reasoning?” I asked trying to draw the moment out just a bit longer. His hands squeezed my hips just a slight bit, and I had to keep thinking to myself that _he does this kind of flirting with pretty much any woman, I am not special even though I really want to be. Don’t lose your head. You may already have lost your heart, but for fuck’s sake don’t lose your head, self._

“Well, sugar, I figure you hafta be, because you’re as pretty as a peach,” he said, and I couldn’t help the laughter that spilled from my lips. I felt heat in my cheeks too, and damnit I knew he’d notice. At that moment, though, I couldn’t bring myself to care. His own rich, happy laughter filled my ears, and I let my head fall forward onto his chest. His arms went around me, and for one stupid moment – one selfish moment – I allowed myself to imagine us like this all the time. The simplicity of being held and feeling safe…fuck, that was intoxicating. I was aware of a rumbling in his chest, and it took me a moment to realize he’d said something. I blinked and looked up at him, only to find him giving me a soft grin. “Million miles away again, beautiful…”

“Sorry,” I said quietly, and he shook his head.

“Aw hush, darlin’. Ain’t nothin’ to apologize for. Now, was I right?” He asked with a hopeful gleam in his eye. I nodded my head silently, and he gave me that same beautiful, fucking heart-stopping smile as earlier. “Hot damn, I knew it! Mint Julep’s a Georgia Peach at heart!”

I couldn’t hold back a small huff of laughter at his excitement.

“What say we watch somethin’ quiet and have an early night, huh sugar?” He asked, and I found myself nodding my head happily. The two of us went to the sofa in the living area and flicked on the television. We were snuggled under a big fluffy blanket to ward away the cold, and a flicker of how damn domestic this was registered in the back of my mind. I quickly swatted that thought away in favor of allowing my eyes to flutter closed. It had been a long day, and all I wanted was to stay in this warm cocoon for as long as Whiskey would allow. Soon, I drifted to sleep, dreams filling with scenes of dancing with Whiskey instead of with that creep.

\--

When my eyes finally blinked back open, I wasn’t where I’d fallen asleep. Now I had a pillow…and that pillow was…moving? What? I turned my gaze to what was beneath my head, and I narrowly avoided throwing myself off the bed in a half panic. I wasn’t laying on a pillow, I was laying on my field partner! He must have laid down and taken me with him when we fell asleep in front of the television. I took this rare opportunity to observe him. His face looked relaxed and peaceful as he slept. The way the flickering light from the screen caressed his cheeks made the edges of my lips quirk up in a smile. Nobody had any right to be that pretty.

In my still mostly asleep state, I couldn’t stop myself from reaching out and tracing the plush line of his lower lip. I was so engrossed in my task that my heart nearly leapt from my chest when the corners of his lips moved upwards in a smile. I drew my hand back as if burned and looked up to find his eyes barely open, irises aimed at me.

_Oh fuck._

“Am I dreamin’ again, darlin’?” He asked in a slightly huskier, sleep-filled voice than normal. He blinked blearily, and I did the only thing I could think to: I reached up and brushed my hand so gently over his eyelids encouraging him to close them.

“Yes, Jack. You’re dreaming,” I whispered in what I hoped was a steady voice. I made to pull my hand away carefully, but Jack’s hand caught my wrist and kept it from moving.

“Don’t leave. N-Not yet. Please,” he said in a voice so quiet I almost missed it. “Always leave so fast…Know I must be dreamin’, ‘cause you’d never say my name. Doesn’t mean I’m lettin’ ya get away, dream or not.”

I smiled and bit and drew my hand away, laying back down on his chest where I’d been before. Glancing up, I saw that his eyes were still closed, and I leaned up to press a soft kiss on his cheek. He gripped me a bit tighter, a bit closer.

“Rest, Jack. You’re safe,” I said quietly, and soon his breathing evened out. I wanted desperately to stay there with him, to snuggle into his arms and forget my worries.

But he was my partner. My work partner. I couldn’t. I slowly disentangled myself from his arms, standing carefully and making sure he was tucked under the blanket before heading back to my room. I laid down, and my last thought before I fell asleep was that my shirt now smelled like Whiskey.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I'm evil. Yes, there will be a resolution in the next work.


End file.
